I tried to brighten the day over at the Fortress of Pillows Philly blog by telling my True Life Sportswriter Poon Story. The connection to the area was that the poon in question were those fine and fit fillies from Villanova. Those guys over there are taking the Flyers being down 0-2 pretty badly.
Full details, a bigger image, and an additional booty shot, all at the click. (Like you weren't going to go look?)
Yesterday's Hall of Fame ceremony for Cal Ripken and Tony Gwynn provoked any number of "you'll never see the likes of them" columns and comments from the usual suspects. Basically, that with free agency, income inequity, the metric system and these pesky kids with their iPods, players who spend 20+ years with the same team won't happen.
But this is, in the words of my dear old grandpappy, a big old steaming pile of crap.
The fact is that it's *always* been rare for a player to have a very long career with one organizarion, throughout baseball history, for two reasons:
1) People who play for a really long time are rare, and
2) If you play for a long time, you've got trade value, and that value usually winds up getting explored at some point.
Don't believe me? Check out Ty Cobb's plaque in Cooperstown, where all of those years in Detroit end with the Athletics. Or Hank Aaron, where 20 years with the Braves end with two with the Brewers. Willie Mays did 20 years with the Giants, then two stumbling around with the Mets.
As a matter of actual fact, rather than a reason to believe that we are all going to Hell In A Handbasket, this is one of the best eras ever in baseball history for people who dote on watching a long career in the same laundry.
Of the 23 players in MLB history with over 10,000 at bats, 11 have played in the last 25 years - Rose, Yaz, Ripken, Murray, Yount, Winfield, Henderson, Molitor, Biggio, Brett and Brock. In that 11, 5 did it in one uniform - Yaz, Ripken, Yount, Biggio and Brett. (In case you're wondering, Gwynn had 9,288 at bats.)
Among active players, it's hard to imagine that Derek Jeter -- currently over 7200 at bats into his career -- ends in anything but pinstriples. Chipper Jones looks pretty locked down in Atlanta. Jorge Posada, Eric Chavez and Jimmy Rollins are all over 4,000 at bats into single team careers; you don't hear their names in trade rumors.
Beyond the sheer historical trends, there's this -- sports marketing is such a force now, and the money is so big... when you, as a team, deal a player who has been seen as the face of the franchise -- it's a big deal. Especially if you're doing it as an obvious salary ploy.
So the Brewers kept Yount, and the Royals kept Brett, and the Astros locked up Biggio, and so on, and so on. And the trend won't stop, because despite the best laid whines of the aging sportwriter, the world isn't going to hell in a handbasket.
So, please, let's just honor Gwynn and Ripken for what they were -- very great ballplayers that woul have been inducted even if they had several teams listed on their final record. Rather than as the last of a breed that, frankly, is nowhere near dying out.
Mainstream media types are starting to notice sports bloggers. In the immortal words of Derrick Coleman, whoop de damn do...
On the off chance that someone who is getting paid is reading this, we'd like to take this opportunity to point out the following:
1) The toothpaste is out of the tube. You can either cry about that, or brush your teeth. Given your career choices to date, this is a 50-50 call.
2) If the roles were reversed, and you were the person whose work was dissected by a third party... you wouldn't be looking for a way to go direct?
Way back when, I covered high school and college sports for newspapers. It's not a great way to earn a living. The athletes that have the ability to speak to the press don't want to. The ones that do not... well, they won't give you anything you can use. The pay sucks. Your coworkers are sportswriters - flabby, badly dressed white guys who live for free food and drink.
If you're good, you move up the ladder for various chains. The pay gets a little more tolerable. Maybe people start to care about what you write. On the other hand, you get scorned by athletes that earn more in a year than you will in your lifetime.
Eventually, if everything goes really well, you get hired by the World Wide Lemur, or you stay true to your print leanings and go to a big paper. Life's good then, right? You've made it to the big time. All of the ass-kissing to editors, all of the networking, all of the late nights and politicking for exclusives... it's paid off. You're getting paid to write about sports, for a living. You get to spend your entire life in a state of perpetual adolescence.
And then the world changes.
Athletes go direct. Newspapers fail to change with the times, and can't monetize Web traffic. Bloggers become relevant, because the traffic votes with its mouse. And you're reduced to writing pointless whinefests.
The point is this: the world changes. Constantly, with increasing speed, in ways that are never applauded by those who are invested in the status quo. In any event, good luck finding anyone who cares. Moving on...
